


Heathers?

by bep_bop



Category: Heathers: The Musical - Murphy & O'Keefe, Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Death, Fluff, M/M, Multi, Murder, Suicide mention, Yeah im rewriting all of heathers with newsies, whos gonna stop me
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:47:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bep_bop/pseuds/bep_bop
Summary: It's Heathers but with Newsies instead. Please don't read this is suicide, death, murder or any of that triggers you.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Racetrack Higgins, Finch/Tommy Boy (Newsies), Romeo/Tommy Boy (Newsies)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to me posting this a couple parts at a time because I can't write it all at once.

"September first, 1989." Race groaned as he got out of his car at his school.

When he walked in, he groaned and made a mental note.

_ "Everything is the same as last year. Screaming kids, people knocking others over and just chaos in general. Nothing's changed except for the fact I'm a senior now." _

Even just walking down the hall, everything was the same. The same smells of weed and bad cologne still filled the air, stinky perfume and the giggling of girls emitted from the girls' bathrooms.

_ "What happened to the good old days of being kids? Just running around with no cares in the world, baking burnt cookies and licking the lids of paste bottles. Then middle school came along and changed everything for the worse." _

Race cringed as he watched a couple play tonsil tennis in the middle of the hallway. He didn't even realize where he was going before he bumped into someone.

"Hey!" They snapped at him. 

Race cringed back and ducked his head as an apology. "Sorry."

_ "One more year, Race." _ He assured himself.  _ "One more year and then you can leave this hell hole. College will be paradise, as long as you don't die by June. I mean, maybe things can get better again. Who knows? Life is one big ass gamble." _

Race watched as a kid in front of him was shoved over.

"Hey are you okay?" He extended his hand to help them up but they made a disgusted face and got up on their own.

"Get away, nerd!"

"Oh, okay." Race brought his hand back to his side. Clearly this year isn't going to be better at all.

Race could hear the voices around him berating each other.

"God, you're such a freak!"

"Ugh what a slut."

"Hey look! It's the cripple!"

"Haha! Guys look! Homos in the hallway! Homo! Homo! Homo!"

Race blocked everything out with his own thoughts, his thoughts of hope for something better.

_ "The ivy covered walls of college and smoky french cafes!" _

"Watch it!" Someone growled at him as he brushed past a little too close.

Race's thoughts immediately started to contradict themself.

_ "Just fight the urge to strike a match and set this dump ablaze!" _

"Oops."

Race mentally groaned,  _ "Tommy Boy, third year as linebacker and eighth year of smacking lunch trays and being a huge dick!" _

He must've said something out loud because Tommy got real close to his face and scolded him.

"What'd you say to me, skank?"

"Ah, nothing!" Race panicked and backed up a step, not wanting to smell the jock's toxic breath.

Race looked around for a seat in the cafeteria, lost in his own thoughts when his best friend Romeo poked his arm to get his attention.

"Ah! Hey Ro!"

"Hey!" Romeo smiled sweetly at Race and he couldn't help but smile back.

_ "Romeo. My best friend since diapers." _

"We on for movie night?" Romeo followed Race's gaze to nowhere.

"Yeah, you're on jiffy pop detail." Race playfully nudged Romeo's shoulder.

"I rented 'The Princess Bride!'" Romeo grinned.

"Hohoho, again? Wait, don't you have it memorized by now?"

"What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending." Romeo's eyes went wide as he saw Finch and Tommy boy approach him and Race.

"Romeo! Short stack!" Finch slapped Romeo's tray out of his hands and Tommy Boy laughed.

Race rolled his eyes, _ "Finch Cortes. Quarterback. He is the smartest guy on the football team. Which is kind of like being the tallest dwarf." _

"Haha! Alright!" Finch cheered and high fived Tommy.

"Hey!" Race spoke up, "Pick that up! Right now!"

"I'm sorry, are you actually talking to me?" Finch sneered.

"Yes I am. I wanna know what gives you the right to pick on my friend. You're a high school has-been waiting to happen. A future gas station attendant."

Finch raised an eyebrow and examined Race's face. "You have a zit right there." He put a hand on Race's forehead and shoved him backwards.

Race slapped a hand to his forehead and walked out of the cafeteria as everyone laughed at him, mortified. As he stalked down the halls, he could almost hear the inner thoughts of people stabbing him, like knives.

_ "Why do they hate me?" _

_ "Why don't I fight back?" _

_ "Why do I act like such a creep?" _

_ "Why won't he date me?" _

_ "Why did I hit him?" _

_ "Why do I cry myself to sleep?" _

_ "Somebody hug me!" _

_ "Somebody fix me!" _

_ "Somebody save me!" _

_ "Send me a sign God!" _

_ "Give me some hope here!" _

_ "Something to live for!" _

Everything seemed to quiet down as the three most popular boys sauntered down the hall.

_ "And then there's Spot and his cronies."  _ Race complained to himself.  _ "They float above it all." _

Race watched as everyone was transfixed by them.

_ "Hotshot, head cheerleader. His dad is loaded, he sells engagement rings." _

He never understood why the three were treated like royalty, they're just high schoolers.

_ "Myron. Runs the yearbook, no discernible personality but his mom did pay for good grades." _

He watched as the hall fell silent from Spot's glare.

_ "And Spot Conlon. The almighty. He is a mythic bitch." _

"They're solid teflon- never bothered, never harassed. I would give anything to be like that." Race muttered to himself as he thought back to the morning's events.

"I'd like to be their girlfriend!" Some hipster dork muttered from next to Race.

"If I sat at their table, girls would notice me!"

"I'd like them to be nicer." Romeo mumbled as he inched closer to Race's side.

"I'd like to kidnap one of them and photograph him naked in an abandoned warehouse and leave him tied up for the rats." Some perverted geek added.

Later on in the day, during a passing period, Race was in the bathroom when Spot and his posse of bitches walked in.

He could hear vomiting from next to him.

"Grow up Myron, bulimia is so '87." Spot complained.

"Maybe you should see a doctor, Myron." Hotshot added with a concerned tone.

"Yeah Hotshot, maybe I should." Myron snapped at the boy.

The bell rang shortly after.

"Ah Spot and Hotshot." Mr. Denton remarked as he walked in to check and see if anyone was smoking or skipping.

More vomiting noises came from the stall next to Race.

"...And Myron." Denton finished. "Perhaps you didn't hear the bell over all the vomiting? You're late for class."

Race quickly thought of something as he pulled out a small slip of paper. If he quickly made a hall pass, he could get on their good side! People would leave him alone! He quickly began to forage a hall pass from the yearbook club.

"Myron wasn't feeling well, we're helping him." Spot tried to bargain.

"Not without a hall pass you're not. Week's detention." Denton smirked and began to make an exit when Race exited the stall and spoke up.

"Um actually Mr. Denton, we're all out on a hall pass. Yearbook committee." Race shakily held out the note.

Denton took it and examined it, "I see you're all listed. Hurry up and get where you're going." He handed the note back to Race.

Once Denton had exited, Spot harshly snatched the note from Race's hand. "This is an excellent forgery. Who are you?" Spot glared at the awkward blonde in front of him.

"Uh... Race. Higgins. I crave a boon."

"What boon?" Spot raised an eyebrow and shared a glance with Hotshot.

"Um. Let me sit at your table, at lunch. Just once. No talking necessary. If people think that you guys tolerate me, then they'll leave me alone."

Spot, Hotshot and Myron all started to chuckle at the ridiculous request that Race made.

"Before you answer, I also do report cards, permission slips and absence notes." He quickly added.

"How about prescriptions?" Myron eagerly asked.

"Shut up Myron." Spot snapped before Race could answer.

"Sorry Spot." The boy glanced at his feet and stepped back.

"For a greasy little nobody, you do have excellent bone structure." Spot grabbed Race's face in his hands and examined him.

"And a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important." Hotshot added. The three boys look at Hotshot, concern painted on their faces. But they didn't say anything.

"Of course you could stand to lose a few pounds." Myron broke the tension in the room.

"Y'know? This could be beautiful." Spot gestured to Race. "Get a comb, some new clothes, and he could really be something special." He spoke about Race as if he wasn't standing right there.

Spot took Race's glasses and stared him down, "We're gonna make you beautiful. Okay?"

"Okay!" Race was a little surprised by the situation but he wasn't going to argue.

Out in the halls, chaos was as normal, nothing new and nothing different.

"Outta my way geek!" Finch yelled at some poor kid.

"I don't want trouble!" He stumbled over his words as Finch and Tommy Boy loomed over him.

"You're gonna die at three pm!" Tommy added as he shoved the poor kid into these two girls.

"Don't you dare touch me!" One scolded.

"Get away pervert!" The other snarled as she shoved him away.

"What did I ever do to them?" He complained to himself. "Who could survive this, I can't escape this, I think I'm dying!" He muttered as he went down the hallway.

"Who's that with Spot?" Someone spun him around and pointed in their general direction.

"Woah." He breathed.

"Spot, Hotshot, Myron and-"

"Race?" Romeo spoke up.

Race felt like he was floating, he gazed out over all the fearful expressions staring at him and Spot. He got what he wanted, he's beautiful. He's in the spotlight.

_ "And you know, life can be beautiful, you hope, you dream, you pray, and you get your way! Ask me how it feels, looking like hell on wheels, my God it's beautiful, I might be beautiful, and when you're beautiful, it's a beautiful fricking day!" _

Race was silently cheering for himself in his head. Now all he's gotta do is stay on Spot's good side. Easy, right?


	2. Chapter 2

Three weeks had passed since Race joined Spot's little gang. He wouldn't quite says friends with them. They're more like people he works with and their job is being popular.

"Hey Race!" Romeo had jogged up to him during lunch one day.

"Hey!" Race greeted his friend.

"You really do look handsome these days."

"Aw thank you, but it's still just the same me underneath."

Romeo let out a nervous chuckle and glanced to the side, "Are you sure?"

Race realized he'd actually been a bad friend since he started hanging out with Spot, "Oh look, I'm really sorry I flaked on movie night last weekend. I just have a lot going on."

"I get that!" Romeo quickly responded, "You're with Spot's gang now! That's exciting." He grinned at Race who smiled back.

"It's whatever, we'll hang out soon I promise-"

"Race!" Myron interrupted, "Spot said to haul ass to the caf, pronto." He jabbed his thumb in the general direction of the cafeteria before turning on his heel and leaving.

"How very." Race turned back to Romeo but he had just nodded and walked away.

"Race, I need you to forage Tommy Boy's handwriting." Spot demanded once Race had arrived. "You'll need something to write on. Myron bend over!"

Myron bent over so that Race could use him as a table.

"Hello beautiful," Spot started. "I've been watching you and thinking about us in the old days. I hope you can come to my homecoming party this weekend, miss you. Tommy Boy." 

Race rushed to write everything down, whilst still being careful to use Tommy's handwriting.

Spot gasped and smiled giddily, "Put an x-o underneath the signature!"

"What is this for anyway?" Race asked as he finished writing the note.

"I just found out that Tommy Boy used to hang out with Romeo!"

"Well yeah," Race started. "In kindergarten. We all did."

"Well we all didn't kiss on the kickball field." Myron deadpanned.

"Oh that's right! I remember, Tommy kissed Romeo. It was disgusting!" Hotshot chirped.

"Perfect." Spot grinned. "Hey Tommy Boy! Come here." He called.

"Yo, what do you think Spot wants?" Tommy elbowed Finch in the ribs.

"I bet he wants you to suck his dick like a vacuum!"

"Hell yeah! Punch it in!" They fist bumped each other before heading over to where Spot called them.

"Give this to Romeo, why don't you?" He pressed the note into Tommy's hand.

"What? No!" Race interjected.

"Since when did you hang out with that midget?" Tommy sneered at Race as he went to unfold the note.

Spot quickly stepped between Race and Tommy, "Don't read it! He's been having some issues down below and wanted advice from my doctor."

"Ewww!" Finch and Tommy Boy chorused.

"Yeah, I'll take that." Race grabbed the note from Tommy Boy. "Thank you!"

He turned to Spot and stared at him, "Romeo's had a thing for Tommy for like 13 years now. This could kill him. Come on Spot, you're bigger than this."

"Are we gonna have a problem?" Spot sneered at Race. "You got a bone to pick? You've come so far, why now are you pulling on my dick? I'd normally slap your face off and everyone here could watch, but I'm feeling nice, here's some advice, listen up bitch."

Race shakily took a step back. He's never been this close to an angry Spot before.

"Westerberg is my territory. I graciously let you step into my candy store and here you are, knocking over all the shelves. Now of course, you can go crying to mommy, or you can join us and stop being a little bitch baby."

Race looked around, he watched as Spot, Myron and Hotshot glared at him whilst Finch and Tommy Boy peered at the four with curiosity.

"If you drop Romeo over there, you'll get so much more!" Myron insisted.

"You won't have to pay at restaurants, we'll cover that. Also," Hotshot held up an answer key to an upcoming test. "We'll help you cheat."

"All you have to do is say goodbye to shamu." Spot gestured in Romeo's general direction. He went and gave the note to Tommy to give to Romeo. Race glanced over there with a pained expression.

"Hate to break it to you, he's not your friend. If he had the chance to hang out with us, he'd leave you to rot." Hotshot sadly nodded at Race. "Of course, if you don't care you can go braid his hair or something. Maybe Sesame Street is on." He teased. Race scrunched up his face and tried to back away, but Myron was right behind him.

"Or forget that creep, and get in my jeep."

"Let's go tear up someone's lawn!" Spot shoved Myron out of the way and smiled a sickeningly sweet smile. "You can join the team."

"Or you can bitch and moan." Hotshot sneered.

"You can live the dream!" Spot dramatically laid on a table.

"Or you can die alone!" Myron made a vaguely threatening gesture with his hand.

"You can fly with eagles, or if you'd prefer, keep on testing me and end up like him." Spot looked at Romeo who was approaching Race.

"Race look! Tommy invited me to his homecoming party, this proves he's been thinking about me!"

"Color me stoked." Race shot a glare at Spot who was smirking at him.

"I'm so happy!" Romeo exclaimed as he skipped away.

"Welcome to my candy sto-" Myron started before Spot shut him up.

"Shut up Myron. This is my candy store Racetrack. You better watch your step."

Hotshot and Myron both were staring at Race, it felt like a warning to him.

The bell rang and the three living skittles left Race alone. He turned to go to class when he was greeted by a ginger in a trench coat.

"You shouldn't have bowed down to the swatch dogs and diet coke heads. They're gonna crush that boy."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Look, you’ve clearly got a soul. You just need to work a little harder keeping it clean. We’re all born marked for evil." The ginger turned on his heel to leave but Race stopped him.

"Okay, don’t just quote Baudelaire at me and walk away. I didn’t even catch your name."

"I didn't throw it." He winked and and walked away, leaving Race stunned.

Unfortunately, Finch and Tommy Boy had watched the entire interaction.

"Who does that guy in the jacket think he is anyways? Bo Diddley?" Finch glanced at Tommy who shrugged.

"Race is into his act, no doubt."

"Let's kick his ass!" Finch prepared himself to walk over and deck the kid, but Tommy put a hand on his shoulder.

"We’re seniors, man. We’re too old for that shit."

Finch shrugged Tommy off and sauntered over to the redhead in the trench coat. "Hey sweetheart!" He taunted whilst smacking his books out of his hands, "What’d your boyfriend say when you told him you were moving to Sherwood, Ohio?"

Tommy came up behind Finch. "My buddy Finch here just asked you a question."

"Hey Tommy, doesn't this cafeteria have a 'no gingers allowed' rule?"

"Sure does." Tommy Boy planted a pointed glare on the kid in front of them.

"They do seem to have an open-door policy for assholes though." The kid raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms.

"Hold his arms." Finch fumed.

Finch and Tommy Boy attacked simultaneously but the kid managed to fight back with ease.

"Holy shit!" Someone in the cafeteria exclaimed.

Race watched the fight play out in front of him, he blushed at the simple thought of the no-name kid fighting for him.


	3. Chapter 3

Back at Race's house after school, he was playing croquet with Spot and his cronies.  
"God, Race. Drool much? You were practically throwing your clothes at the new kid earlier." Spot deadpanned whilst glaring at Hotshot and Myron. The two aforementioned forced out terrified chuckles.   
"And from the looks of your house, you can't afford replacements." Spot glared at the two again, forcing them to laugh.  
"Come on," Race groaned. "I don't even know his name." He noticed his parents come out into the backyard, "Mom! Dad! Watch out!"  
"Here you go boys! Care for some pate?" Mrs. Higgins called out to the four.  
Spot glanced at the plate and then glanced at Mrs. Higgins. "That's not pate. That's liverwurst."  
Mrs. Higgins smiled at the boy, "I know that Spot! It's a family joke."  
Spot rolled his eyes, "Funny."  
"Dammit! Can somebody tell me why I read these spy novels?" Mr. Higgins exclaimed out loud.  
"Because you're an idiot, Dad."  
"Oh yeah, that's it." He nodded his head in what Race assumed to be shame.  
"You two!" Mrs. Higgins called out to Myron and Hotshot. "Any plans for tonight?"  
"A big homecoming party at Tommy Boy's house. I'm catching a ride with Spot." Race responded to his mother.  
At the mention of the party, the three color coded boys picked up their croquet balls and start walking away.  
"Great pate, mom, but we better motor if we want to be ready for that party." Race mentioned as he himself got ready to leave.  
"Don't let the popular boys change you." His mother warned. Race rolled his eyes and scoffed.  
"I need them."  
"For what? You have friends. You have Romeo!" Mrs. Higgins countered.  
"Maybe I want more out of life than liverwurst."  
Spot cleared his throat to get Race's attention. Race waved goodbye to his parents and left with Spottie C.  
"Those boys seemed really nice." Race's mom marveled.


	4. Chapter 4

Before the party, Spot had gone to 7-Eleven so Race could pick him up some corn nuts. Before Race walked in, Spot called out a reminder.

"Don’t forget to buy corn nuts! It’s not a party without corn nuts!"

"Yes, Spot. Plain or BQ?" Race leaned towards the car to hear Spot's response.

"BQ!!"

When he was in the store, Race saw the ginger in the trench coat that had beat the shit out of Finch and Tommy Boy.

"Greetings and salutations. You want a slurpee with that?" The boy glanced at the corn nuts in Race's hand.

"No, but if you're nice, I'll let you buy me a Big Gulp." Race teased.

"That’s like going to Mickey D’s to order a salad. Slurpee is the signature dish of the house. Did you say cherry or lime?"

Race playfully rolled his eyes at the kid. "I said Big Gulp. I’m Race Higgins, by the way. Were you ever gonna tell me your name?"

"I'll end the suspense. Albert Dasilva. But you can just call me Albert."

"So Albert, that thing you did in the caf was pretty severe." Race leaned on a nearby counter.

"The extreme always seems to make an impression." The corners of Albert's mouth turned up into a small smile.

"So what brings a Baudelaire-quoting badass like you to Sherwood, Ohio?" Race's eyes flicked around the store before landing on Albert.

"My dad's work." Albert shrugged, "He owns a deconstruction company."

"Deconstruction?"

"Yeah, the old man seems to enjoy tearing things down. You ever seen the commercial like “Well I’m Big Bud Dean if it’s in the way I’ll make your day!”" Albert mocked his dad when saying the second part.

Race's eyes lit up with recognition, "Right, then he pulls the plunger and the screen blows up! That’s your dad?"

"In all his toxic glory." The redhead sighed.

"Everyone's life has got static." Race shrugged, thinking back to before he started hanging out with Spot.

"Race!!!" Cam Spot's screech from outside.

"Example: I don't really like my friends." The blonde looked in the general direction of Spot's car.

Albert followed Race's gaze. "I don’t like your friends either. Bag the party, hang here!"

"At the 7-Eleven?" Race chuckled. "Swanky first date."

"Hey, I love this place." Albert feigned being offended.

"No offense, but why?"

Race was taken aback as he heard the music suddenly change and the mood in the store shift.

He was even more concerned when Albert just started singing out of nowhere. "I've been through ten high schools, they start to get blurry. No point planting roots 'cause you're gone in a hurry. 

My dad keeps two suitcases packed in the den so it's only a matter of when."

"Are you okay? Should I call someone?" Race interjected, but Albert didn't seem to hear him.

"I don't learn the names. Don't bother with faces. All I can trust is this concrete oasis, seems ev’ry time I'm about to despair, there's a 7-11 right there.

Each store is the same, from Las Vegas to Boston. Linoleum aisles that I love to get lost in! I pray at my altar of slush, yeah I live for that sweet frozen rush!"

"Hey! Drama queen!" Race waved a hand in front of his face. "You've got a nice voice but this isn't a musical."

"Ah yes, sorry." Albert brushed it off like he never started singing. "There's 7-Elevens everywhere so it's just easy for me to retreat here and get a slushie. It's a comfort place for when things go bad. Y'know?"

"Does your mommy know you eat all that crap?" Race raised his eyebrows, amused.

"Not anymore." Albert grinned. "When mom was alive, we lived halfway normal. Then she died so it's just me and my dad. Something I learned was, the world doesn't owe you a cent. You better build some walls for yourself. You're out here planning your future 'Race Higgins, married to a lawyer.' But the sky is gonna fall and you won't have walls."

"Huh. I never took you for one with good advice." Race mused.

"I'm full of surprises, sweetheart." Albert winked at him and Race felt like his heart was going to explode.

“If you're anything like me, you're constantly moving around. So just come here, forget who you are, unburden your load, in six weeks you'll be back on the road anyways.” Albert extended his arm out and offered the drink to Race. “Try it.”

Race took a drink from it and shrugged his shoulders. “I don't see what the big deal- OH SON OF A BITCH!” He hastily handed the slurpee back to Albert and put a hand on his forehead.

The door opened and a very aggravated Spot Conlon marched in. “Race! Corn nuts?”

“Yes Spot.” Race rolled his eyes and glanced at Albert who raised his eyebrows.

“Wave bye-bye to Red Dawn here and let's motor.” Spot yanked Race out of the store once he had paid.

Albert stood at the door, sipping a slushee, watching Race and Spot drive away.


	5. Chapter 5

Over at Tommy Boy’s house, his dad and Finch’s dad were getting ready to leave. Tommy’s dad was giving the boys a “stern” lecture.

“ Okay, Tommy. Have fun tonight, but I expect you to act your age. The Kelly’s

have the number to the cabin. If they call to complain, I’m gonna come back here and knock the

sand out of your vagina.”

Tommy scoffed and shrugged his shoulders, “Dude, what am I? Five?”

“I’m your dad, not your ‘dude.’” 

Finch’s dad turned to his son, “Same goes for you Finch. You’re a guest in Bill’s house, you will treat him with respect.”

“Sure thing dude!” Finch and Tommy Boy laughed at Finch’s comment.

“Grab his arms.” Tommy’s dad grabbed Finch per his dad’s request.

“Okay, okay It’s funny! I was kidding!” Finch tried to get free of his friend’s father’s grasp.

“Who’s a big sissy?” His dad raised an eyebrow, smug.

“I’m not a sissy!”

“Who’s a big sissy?”

“I get it, it’s funny!”

“You’re gonna wear a pretty, pretty dress!” Finch’s dad playfully punched his son.

“Fine! I’m a sissy! I’m a big fat sissy!”

“Damn right you are. Have fun at your party!”

The older men left, leaving their sons alone at the house.

Not too long after they had left the area, partygoers started to pull up and fill up the house. Soon, drugs were being used, shots taken and couples hooking up. Tommy Boy suggested skinny dipping and surprisingly, people complied.

In the kitchen, Race was learning how to take proper shots.

“So it’s salt, then shot, then lime. It’s very important to get the order right.” Race followed Hotshot’s instructions carefully.

“Wow, you’re a natural! Just like my mom!” Hotshot smiled a sickeningly sweet smile at Race.

Race smiled at Hotshot as he left the kitchen to go check out what was happening in the living room. He took a hit off a joint from someone as he made his way around the room, Hotshot was harassing Myron by the couch.

“Yo, Tommy!” Race caught his attention, “I just saw some Freshman sneaking over the fence!”

“I hate Freshman!” Tommy Boy growled, “Where are you little pricks!? I’m coming for you!” Tommy abandoned all interaction with Myron as he went to go hunt down the Freshman that weren’t really there.

“Hey, are you okay?” Race carefully approached Myron who flipped him off.

“I didn’t need your help.”

“Aw, thanks Myron, but I don’t really need to have right now.”

Myron scoffed and rolled his eyes at Race before walking away. Race turned to explore more of the party when he noticed a certain short boy looking lost in the crowd. His face lit up and went to go greet Romeo.

Spot pointed out to Hotshot and Myron that Race was talking with Romeo and they began to conspire against the duo.

“I can’t believe you actually came!” Race scratched the back of his head and glanced around nervously.

“It’s exciting, right? Oh, I wanna say hello to Tommy Boy, I brought sparkling cider!” Race watched helplessly as his friend walked away to his doom.

Spot’s cold glare was targeted on Race, prepared to tear him from limb to limb as needed. He’d been so gracious to the blonde, and here he was, trampling all over the plans that Spot had made. He’d ruined his chances to be a genuine friend of Spot’s.

Race was frozen in place, almost as if he was a statue, as he watched Romeo go up to Tommy and offer him the cider. Tommy took a sip and spit it all over the ground, Romeo looked visibly hurt as Tommy made what Race supposed to be an offensive comment.

When Tommy Boy left the poor kid alone, Romeo glanced around the room, looking lost. Race wanted so desperately to just walk up to him and remove him from this hell of a party. Race had just made up his mind to help his friend when Spot walked in with a smug expression on his face.

“Okay Westerbergers!” He called out to the house, gaining the attention of many. “Time to celebrate our victory over the Razorbacks by whacking apart their mascot!”

The sea of drunken teenagers let out cheers of victory as Spot raised his arms.

“We need a volunteer to take the first swing at the piñata!” Hot Shot’s gaze swept over the crowd.

“Romeo! I think you should do the honors!” Spot marched over to Romeo with an evil smile plastered on his face.

“I don’t really know this game…” Romeo looked down at the floor and he shifted uncomfortably.

“Let’s show this boy some Westerberg spirit!” Hot Shot handed Romeo a croquet mallet and blindfolded him. Spot helped to spin him around.

“Romeo! Romeo! Romeo! Romeo!” The crowd chanted as they brought the piñata out.

Race’s eyes widened as he saw the paper mache pig.

“Give me the pig!” He yelled as he lunged to grab it.

Loud protests came from the crowd and people tried to hold Race back from grabbing the pig. When he had gotten hold of it, he went outside to the pool.

“You gotta give it back Racetrack, come on!” Myron complained.

“You want it? Go swim for it.” Race tossed it into the pool and marched over to Romeo.

“Go home. Go!” He commanded the shorter boy.

“But what about the piñata?” Romeo pulled the blindfold down and stared up at Race.

“Go home, I’ll explain later.” Once Romeo had walked away, Race stormed over to Spot. “Well, we gave it a shot. I’m resigning my commission from the lip gloss gestapo and going back to civilian life.”

“No.” Spot shoved Race.

“Don’t push me, I’m not feeling well.” Race rolled his eyes.

Spot pulled Race by the collar to bring him down to his level. “You don’t get to be a nobody. Come Monday, you’re an ex-somebody. Not even the losers are going to touch you now. You transfer to Washington and you can transfer to Jefferson, but no one at Westerberg is going to let you play their reindeer games.”

Race opened his mouth to respond, but he vomited on Spot’s shoes instead.

Spot screeched and took a couple steps back. “I raised you up from nothing! And this is my thanks? I get paid in puke!?”

“Lick it up, baby. Lick. It. Up.” Race slurred.

Spot narrowed his eyes at Race. “I know who I’m eating lunch with on Monday. Do you?” He turned around and addressed the rest of the party goers. “Okay, party people! Where’s the goddamn keg?”

Race scoffed at Spot and exited the party. He knew where he was going to go next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long to get out. I get distracted a lot lol, I'll try to get other parts out faster but pls don't trust me to do that.  
> Anyways visit me on tumblr at albert-damnsilva-kinda-fucks


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dead girl walking but Race is just bitching to Al and no seggs

Race hopped the fence of someone’s house, hoping he got the correct address. He found a ladder leaning up against the house, so he used it and climbed up to one of the windows. Race heard a snap as he opened the window, he didn’t think too much about it.

He let out a sigh of relief as Albert sat up in his bed, staring in shock at Race.

Race let himself inside and flopped onto Albert’s bed. “The demon king of high school has decreed it. He says, Monday 8 am I will be deleted. He’ll hunt me down in study hall, stuff and mount me on the wall. Thirty hours to live, how shall I spend them?”

Albert opened his mouth to suggest something, but Race put a hand on his mouth, silencing the red head.

“I could change my name and ride up to Seattle but I don’t own a motorbike.”

They sat in silence for a bit before they both eventually fell asleep.

_"Hello slut." Spot sneered. Race glanced around, confused._

_"How did you get in here?"_

_"I'm like oxygen. I'm everywhere." Spot glanced around at the surroundings. "Really Racetrack? Hanging out with psycho trench coat kid? Everyone in school is gonna know 'Good Little Racetrack Higgins' is nothing but a bitch."_

_"Why are you so determined to hurt me?" Race took a step closer to Spot._

_"Because I can, it'll be so very."_

_Spot's condescending words echoed as Race felt the room fall away._

Albert and Race peacefully asleep when Race suddenly shot up. “I gotta get to Spot’s.”

“Why?” Albert looked at the blonde and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were done with Spot?”

“Yeah, and it was a sweet fantasy. A world without Heather, a world where everyone is free! But now it’s morning and I have to go kiss her aerobicized ass.”

“Let me come with.” Albert stood up as Race was climbing out the window again.

“Really?” The blonde paused and raised his eyebrows.

“Y’know, for backup.” Albert pulled on his iconic black trench coat.

“Oh, alright! Thanks.”

The two exited the house together and got into Albert’s car to drive to Spot’s place.


End file.
